Blindfold
by Melistborn
Summary: Six months after Maeve's death Reid has a dream about her, which leaves him upset and confused. He turns to Morgan for comfort and reassurance that this is normal and healthy. Loosely inspired by Reid's dream about Maeve at the end of 8x20. But mostly inspired by my own imagination of how Maeve would have made blindfolds fun for Reid.


**Spoilers from season 8 and content warning for depictions of sex and sexual activities. (although nothing very graphic)**

**I've probably taken some liberties with Maeve's character, but since it's Reid's dream, and dreams aren't always a reflection of reality, I don't think anything is too OOC for either of them.**

**Thank you to Phantomeyeswriter for being my Beta-reader (and my IRL sister and for introducing me to Criminal Minds) and for talking me into publishing this one. **

**Enjoy. :)**

**Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. Credit for those parts goes to the writers and creators at CBS.**

Three months and sixteen days after Maeve died, Spencer finally got to touch her for the first time. It was only in his dream, and he knew that it wasn't real, knew that it was just his brain attempting to process emotions by constructing a fictional scenario based on stored memories. But it felt real to Reid.

Acting on Rossi's advice, Spencer had allowed himself — his dream self — to accept her invitation to dance, finally satisfying his curiosity to know what it would be like to touch her. He started by hesitantly taking her hand, which felt soft and warm in his, but as they danced he finally gave in to the fantasy and allowed himself to touch her body. He let his hands run across her shoulders and down her back as they swayed to the music, and she did the same to him. She felt solid, lifelike, alive. It was so vivid, his mind even constructed the smell of Maeve's hair and skin, as Reid buried his face in her neck and inhaled her scent.

After that, Maeve only made occasional appearances in his dreams. It was what Reid had both feared and hoped would result from his reluctant decision to let the dream run its course. He missed her — he would always miss her — but he was finally able to start healing emotionally, start moving forward in his life without her.

Everything was fine — better — for about six months. Until the night Reid's body and mind had conspired to betray him in his sleep.

Reid awoke in a panic, heart pounding and heat coursing through his body. The ecstasy he'd been experiencing moments before was quickly replaced by shame.

The next thing Reid knew, he was barging into Morgan's front room, needing the calming presence and reassurances of the person he'd come to think of as an older brother.

"Whoa! Slow down Pretty Boy. Start from the beginning. What's going on?"

The young doctor paced back and forth across Morgan's living room, working himself into a frenzy. Morgan had never seen Reid this worked up or this reluctant to talk about what was bothering him.

"Is this about a case?" Morgan suggested.

Reid just continued to pace, frantically running his hands through his hair every few minutes. He was mumbling words and phrases, but Morgan couldn't tell if the kid was talking to him or to himself.

"This can't be happening. It's wrong! I'm not a sadist! Why would my brain be doing this to me? It doesn't make any sense." Reid muttered, his mouth going a million miles per hour.

"What is your brain doing to you?" Morgan asked, still confused. Again, Reid didn't seem to hear him.

"There has to be an explanation! This is more than just a physiological reaction in response to a combination of unaddressed emotional grief and neglected sexual impulses. . ."

"Reid, did something happen last night?" Morgan asked.

Reid paused and looked around, as if suddenly realizing where he was. He blinked and then looked at Morgan, apparently making his mind up about something.

"Morgan, what I'm about to tell you can never leave this room."

"Okay. . ." Morgan agreed.

"You have to promise."

"I promise, kid. Whatever you say stays between you and me."

"I had a dream about Maeve." Reid blurted out.

"A nightmare?" Morgan asked.

"No."

"Well then what's the problem? You've had dreams about her before."

"Not this kind of dream." Reid said, turning bright red.

"Oh," Morgan said, as everything started to make sense. Relief washed over him. He'd been imagining much worse. "Kid, that's normal! It happens to all guys!"

"It's normal to have wet dreams about your dead girlfriend?" Reid asked trying to sound nonchalant. But Morgan could tell that this was more than a throw-away question.

"Was she dead in your dream?" He asked, wondering if Reid was dreaming about a corpse. That would explain his behavior.

"No. She's always alive in my dreams. Usually we just talk or dance or play chess. But this time she was . . ." Reid trailed off, his face getting hot as he remembered the details of his fantasy.

"I still don't see what the big deal is," Morgan turned a chair around to straddle it, resting his arms on the chair back. "This is normal, healthy behavior. It means your mind is recovering from Maeve's death, and your body is ready to get back in the game. When was the last time you had sex?"

If Reid's face was red before, it was scarlet now. He didn't answer.

"Reid, this all stays between you and me. Man to man. How long has it been?"

"Um, I guess the answer you are looking for would be 32 years." Reid finally answered in a nervous voice.

Morgan's jaw dropped. "Never?!"

"Well, how old were you when you started having sex?" Reid asked.

"Probably around high school, 15 or 16." Morgan answered, realizing where this was going.

"I was 12-years-old in high school. It was literally against the law for any of my fellow students to date me —let alone sleep with me— even if I had wanted to."

"I guess that makes sense." Morgan said, running a hand over his face. "But not even in college? Not even after you started at the BAU?"

"By the time I was 18 I already had my first doctorate and was working on my second. Do you know many college students who want to sleep with a slightly autistic 18-year-old graduate student who has a PhD in Mathematics? I wasn't exactly a 'lady's man.'" Reid made air quotes with his fingers.

Morgan chuckled, but Reid continued.

"I never really had what you might call a normal dating life. Most of the time I was too young or too awkward to participate in traditional college experiences and rights of passage. When I finally became an adult and started interacting with women my own age, I realized that I lacked the social skills most people develop throughout high school and college. I've only ever been on a handful of dates, including one painfully awkward football game with JJ. Lila Archer was my first kiss. I'd never even had a girlfriend before Maeve."

"Reid, I just assumed . . ." Morgan started to say. But it made sense. Reid had always been a little awkward around women. Morgan had never stopped to think about the effect graduating with three PhDs by age 21 would have had on his friend's dating life.

"That's why Maeve was so important. She was the first person who understood me, who didn't find it odd that I like to spend my weekends studying philosophy, because she loved to study philosophy, too." Reid seemed to be lost in his memories. "I didn't have to try to explain to her what it was like to be the awkward young genius in high school, because she _was_ that awkward young genius in high school. She was a miracle, Morgan. She was the first woman to see me, and understand me. . . and fall in love with me."

Reid suddenly seemed to snap back to the present.

"So, no. I've never had sex with another person. And given everything you know about me, that shouldn't be too surprising," Reid sighed. "But the fact that my inexperienced subconscious is now trying to construct an idea of what Maeve would have looked and felt like in an intimate situation is . . ."

". . . uncomfortable" Morgan finished for him. They were both silent for a moment, processing.

Finally Morgan spoke.

"Reid, I don't know what to tell you. I don't think there's anything wrong or sadistic about your situation. I think you are still in love with Maeve and part of you is trying to live out the future you would have had together in your dreams. Your body is participating the only way it can."

"You make me sound like one of our unsubs." Reid said sadly, looking at the carpet. "Compelled to live out a fantasy in an alternate reality that can never exist.

Morgan thought for a second, then changed tactics.

"Tell me about your dream."

"What? No!" Reid said, looking mortified.

"You think what you're dreaming about is so wrong? Let me give you a second opinion. I promise I'll be honest and professional." Morgan coaxed.

When Reid didn't say anything Morgan prodded him again. "Look, you obviously need to talk to someone about this and I know you won't see a therapist. So it's either me or Hotch. Who's it gonna be?"

"Fine." Reid bit his lip, thinking, stalling, and then recounting the dream to Morgan.

—

_Reid was sitting at his kitchen table, surrounded by books. He looked up to see Maeve, as usual, sitting across from him drinking coffee. _

"_I've always wanted to visit Gethsemani Abbey in Kentucky." Maeve was saying. "It's where Thomas Merton wrote some of his most influential works, including his autobiography_—"

"—_The Seven Storey Mountain." Reid finished for her. _

"_Exactly." Maeve grinned. "So what about you? Where would you go if you could travel anywhere in the world?_

_Reid thought about it, before giving the answer he always gave when she asked him this question in his dreams._

"_I'd stay right here, with you." Reid said reaching out to take her hand. "I'd just sit here and look at you forever."_

"_But how can you see me if you're blindfolded?" Maeve teased._

"_What? I'm not_—" _Spencer began, but suddenly he realized he __**was**_ _wearing a blindfold. Everything was dark and he couldn't see her anymore. He couldn't see anything. "Maeve? What's going on?"_

"_Didn't I promise to make blindfolds fun again?" Maeve's voice whispered against his neck, making Spencer shiver. He had never heard anything quite so seductive in his life._

_Her nimble fingers started to work their way down the buttons on his shirt, finally pushing it off his shoulders and running her hands over his chest._

"_Maeve, what are you_—" _he started. But he broke off abruptly when he felt her climb onto his lap, straddling him. _

"_Shhhhhh" she said, before silencing him with a kiss. _

_The kiss was everything Reid had ever imagined it would be. Her lips were soft and warm, urging him on and demanding his full attention. When he slipped his tongue into her mouth he was pleasantly surprised to find that she tasted like coffee and peppermint. He moaned, wanting more. The kiss deepened and he felt himself becoming aroused as her hands trailed down his chest, coming to a stop at the top of his jeans._

"_Spencer. . ." she breathed in his ear, gasping as his mouth moved to her neck._

"_I need you." He moaned. He said it with complete sincerity, and his body confirmed the desperation of his plea. _

"_Maeve, I want to see you! Please let me see you!" He begged, reaching up to remove the blindfold, but her hands caught his wrists before they could reach his face._

"_Not yet." _

_Instead, she guided his hands to her waist, to the bottom edge of her t-shirt._

"_I- I don't know what to do." Spencer hesitated for the first time._

"_Yes, you do." Maeve reassured him, raising her arms so that he could remove her shirt. "Don't think. Just let your body tell you what it wants." _

"_No, I- I've never . . ." Spencer stammered._

"_Here. Let me help you." Reid felt the fabric brush against his bare chest as she lifted her t-shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor next to his chair._

"_Maeve?!" he sounded shocked, but also excited._

"_Shhhh." She kissed him again. "Tell me what you want."_

"_I want to see you." He answered, as if it were obvious._

"_Besides that," she said, placing his hands on her bare torso. "What do you feel?"_

"_I feel your skin." he answered._

_She guided his hands up her body until they found her bra. "And now?"_

"_Your breasts" he said, his body responding exactly as she knew it would. _

"_Mmm." she reached behind herself to undo the clasp, letting him feel the material fall away. "And now?"_

_Spencer couldn't speak. He lunged forward, covering her mouth with his own once again, letting their tongues dance around each other while his fingers explored her breasts. _

"_Spencer . . ." She threaded her fingers into his hair, and rocked her hips forward on his lap, making him groan in pleasure. _

"_Tell me what you want." She said, tilting her head back as he moved his lips to her throat._

_He was still trying to devour her with his mouth. His mind couldn't seem to form the words, and his tongue didn't want to pause long enough to give a response anyway. _

_Maeve seemed to understand. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he rose from the chair, their mouths locking together again. Reid pressed his hands to her back to keep her from falling._

_He stumbled forward until he felt his legs bump the edge of something soft and springy. A mattress. He realized he must be in a bedroom now, although he didn't remember leaving the kitchen. But she was kissing him again, and he decided that it didn't really matter. He leaned forward to place her on the bed, hovering above her and letting his arms support his weight. _

"_Now can I take off the blindfold?" he asked. _

"_Wouldn't you rather take off something else?" she smirked, starting to unbutton his jeans. _

"_I can do both." Spencer answered, kicking off his shoes so that she could peel off his pants. "The two aren't mutually exclusive."_

_He felt the bed shifting beneath him, and realized she was taking off her pants, as well. _

"_You know, there's such a thing as too much logic," Maeve said, as she pressed a crumpled, lacey piece of clothing into his hand. Her underwear._

_Reid felt his jaw drop. He quickly rid himself of his boxers and mismatched socks, leaving him naked except for the blindfold still covering his eyes. _

"_Maeve?" he called, momentarily panicked. He'd let go of her and now he couldn't find her again. He stretched out his arms, feeling around in the darkness. "Where are you? I can't see you?" _

_But then he relaxed as he felt himself being pulled back onto the bed. He lay on his back and could feel her legs straddling his hips once again._

"_You don't need to see me, Spencer," Maeve said, placing a hand on his face. "What is it Shakespear said? 'Love sees not with the eyes, but with the mind.'" _

"_A Midsummer Night's Dream," Reid answered._

"_Now," Maeve asked him for the third time, "Tell me what you want." _

"_You know what I want." Reid answered, pulling her down until their lips met, trying to channel all his love and longing and passion into the kiss. He felt her body responding and let his instincts take over, finding that he did, in fact, know what to do. All hesitancy forgotten, their bodies came together, getting lost in each other's rhythm, crescendoing until they reached the breaking point, until they collapsed, exhausted and content and complete in each other's arms._

And Spencer opened his eyes to find himself alone in his bed wearing ruined pajamas. There was no blindfold. Maeve was gone. She had never been in his bed. Just the ghost of a memory.

—

Morgan listened carefully as Reid finished explaining everything that had taken place in the dream. It was sexy, Morgan had to admit. But it wasn't vulgar or violent or pornographic like the dreams some men experienced. It was tender.

"Reid. . ." Morgan started, still unsure of what to say.

"What's wrong with me, Morgan?" Reid asked, looking so miserable that it nearly broke Morgan's heart.

"Nothing, kid." Morgan reached out to grasp Reid's shoulder. "There is nothing wrong with you. You're still in love with Maeve, that's all."

"Well how do I make it stop?" Reid asked.

"You mean how do you stop loving someone?" Morgan asked, sinking into the couch to sit down next to his friend and sighing deeply. "If you could answer that, you really would be the smartest guy in the world."

"I just miss her. And sometimes I would give anything just to be able to see her again, but then I do see her again in my dreams and it just makes me wish I could forget her." Reid said.

"Yeah, but that's not how it works." Morgan responded.

"I know." Reid said. "I have a perfect memory of every word we said to each other, every phone call, every detail of her face. I'll never be able to forget. And now my mind is constructing new memories that never even happened. I _know _I never touched her or kissed her or held her, but some part of me remembers what that felt like . . . How is that fair?!"

"You're right." Morgan said. "It's not fair. But maybe it's your mind's way of getting closure. Filling in the parts of Maeve that you never got to know in life, so that you can keep a perfect version of her safe in your memory."

Reid considered what Morgan was saying. "You think I'm experiencing Cryptomnesia and _memoria praeteritorum bonorum_?"

"I don't think any woman —living or dead— is as perfect as what you've just described." Morgan answered.

Reid nodded. That made sense. It wasn't a perfect explanation, but somehow it still made him feel a little bit better.

"Look, Reid, I know you're tired of hearing this, but it really is going to get better." Morgan said, standing up and reaching out a hand to Spencer.

"I know. That dream just sort of freaked me out." Spencer said, taking Morgan's hand and rising out of the couch cushions. "I'm sorry to bother you so early."

"No, I get it. It's fine." Morgan said. "I'll see you at work?"

Reid nodded and turned to leave but—

"Hey Reid," Morgan met Reid's eyes, "Your secret's safe with me. If you ever need to talk — about anything — you know where to find me."

Reid couldn't speak, but he knew Morgan understood.

~Fin~

**Thank you for reading. Please forgive any inaccuracies or details I've gotten wrong. I'm still watching Criminal Minds for the first time and I've only seen up through Season 8, so I've got no idea what else is coming up (that's a lie, I've seen lots of spoilers for upcoming seasons, but there are probably still a few surprises ahead that I haven't spoiled for myself).**

**Like everyone who posts on this site, reviews and encouragement from readers make me want to write more. Let me know what you think. :)**

**Note: I originally published this in three chapters, but a few hours later I changed my mind and decided it made sense to keep it all together. Hopefully that switch wasn't too confusing if anyone saw it in its original form.**


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